Bedside Manner
by Fayth3
Summary: The Doctor corners a fearsome beast in the TARDIS. What does he do with it? RoseTen HappyWho fic prompt Medicine


He finally managed to corner the fearsome creature in the control room after an hour long chase around the TARDIS.

It knelt in its hiding place behind the console, sweat dripping from its fevered brow, harsh breaths panting through a ragged throat.

He edged forward brandishing his weapon and tried to peer over the assorted dials and levers for any hint of movement, any tell-tale sign that would say it was on the move.

"Come on," he whispered encouragingly. "Come to the Doctor."

"No!"

The Doctor sagged. "Oh, come on, Rose!"

"No."

"But you have to!" he exclaimed.

"Why?"

That seemed to stump him for a moment.

"Because," he eventually drawled with exaggerated patience, "you're sick"

"No'mnot." Her denial was lost in a hacking cough and he was torn between concern and smug triumph.

"Yes, yes you are. Any cough that sounds like the Moxx of Balhoon's blocked sinuses is definitely an indicator of being sick. You, Rose Tyler, are sick and need to take your medicine."

He held up the bottle of expensive serum he had managed to find for her on the planet.

"'m not drinkin' that!" she insisted and promptly sneezed.

"But we don't know what Haxian flu does to humans. None of my companions have ever caught it before. I didn't know humans could catch it. But then that's you, Rose Tyler, pushing the boundaries of human interaction. "He realised he sounded far too pleased at that and changed his tone. "Take the medicine, Rose; I got it just for you. Well strictly speaking I went to get it but it was handed to me by a very apologetic chief. In fact the Head Klaxian of Haxian said—"

"You're making that up."

"No, I'm serious. Klaxian of Haxian. Anyway he said that the Greffalo is very sorry for infecting you and they gave us this especially to make you better."

He tiptoed forwards, making sure that his converse trainers didn't squeak as he inched over the control room floor. Rose had very sharp hearing and if she heard even the slightest hint that he was sneaking up on her … well. She could throw like an Olympic champion and his chest still hurt from her stiletto shoes.

"I don't want it."

He huffed and shook the bottle at her. "It'll be very rude if you don't take it."

"Well, it was time one of us was. It's usually you, so it had to be my turn sooner or later."

"Rose," he cajoled only to have a fit of coughing stop his words. "You're really not well; I don't like it when you're sick. Let me make it better."

"No, an' you can stop sneaking forwards too," she sniffed. "Don't think I can't hear ya!"

He froze in mid-step, his free hand flying to his chest. "Please, Rose. It's not that bad! Compared to what could happen to you, why, all sorts of things can result from alien infections!"

Rose peered over the edge of the console, showing the Doctor her red face and heavy eyes. She looked like she was having a hard time focussing but eventually her eyes settled on the bottle in his hand.

The 'medicine' was a thick black, viscous liquid the texture and consistency of tar. It had tendrils of slick blackness trailing against the side of the jar like spiders legs encased in jelly.

As Rose watched something inside gave a lurch and it … moved.

"I don't care."

"You could turn green."

"Don't care."

"Horns! You could grow horns."

"Don't care."

"Mismatching shades of indigo, red and green," he said desperately. "With boils and pus-filled pores."

Rose paused and the Doctor stepped forwards with the medicine. Unfortunately at that exact point the black liquid burped, lurched and turned from inky black to a dull grey before turning black again. The Doctor looked down at it in surprise.

"I don't care!" Rose said emphatically and ducked down again.

He inched forwards again. "Okay, so it looks pretty bad, but usually things that look awful taste really great."

"Name one!" Rose said, her sneeze turning the words into an exclamation.

His brilliant mind suddenly went blank. "Well, there's the … the uh …" He blinked twice and searched his mind for something, anything. "Bananas aren't particularly attractive and look how good they are for you."

Rose poked her head up again, shooting him a piteous glare. "That was reaching, even for you."

He had been. "Curries, especially cream curries; look like cat-sick, taste divine. Muesli, looks like cardboard—"

"Taste's like cardboard," she continued. "I'm not drinking that … that stuff. What is it anyway?"

He wasn't going to tell her. It'd only put her off.

He stepped forward and the TARDIS's metal grate creaked. Rose shot her head over the side, saw how close he was and darted around to the far side of the console.

The Doctor sighed. "Rose!"

"No!"

He headed one way, only for her to slide the other. He tried to backtrack, but Rose was quicker and was on the other side faster than he could see.

He threw his hands up in mock defeat. "Right, fine. If you don't take your medicine, I'll take you home."

"Yeah," she sneered, "and tell Mum you let me get sick?"

Right. Possibly not the best idea.

"Okay, all right. If you don't take it, I won't take you to HedonMall: the biggest shopping centre in the galaxy, with an unlimited credit chip."

Rose's head appeared over the console again. "That's blackmail!"

"Really?" The Doctor looked absurdly pleased. "So it is."

"I'm still not taking it. Not for all the tea in China or the Cronk burgers in Delphii. No way. I'm not—"

Taking advantage of her distraction the Doctor did a flying tackle and leaped on her, cutting her off mid-sentence.

Rose went crashing backwards to the floor, her head barely cushioned by his hand. She landed with him on top of her and all the breath whooshed out of her body. His whole weight shifted and suddenly he was sitting on her legs, his arms pinning her hands above her head.

"Get off!" she yelled, squirming underneath him. "Off!"

"Nope." He popped the 'p' and grinned widely.

Rose twisted under him, trying to buck him off and the grin faded.

"Rose, you really want to stop doing that."

She wriggled again. "Then get off!"

"That won't be a problem," he muttered.

Rose frowned and tried to wind her body away but the Doctor clamped his knees tighter to her thighs and used his teeth to pull the top of the bottle off.

"No!" she cried threw her head to the side, burying her head in the crook of her arm.

The Doctor secured her arms with one hand and brought the other down to touch her chin. He dragged her face to look at him, his eyes sad.

"Don't you know I don't want to hurt you, Rose? I'm only doing this for your benefit; I don't want you to get sick."

"M'already sick," she pouted, giving in slightly at his puppy-dog eyes. "Please don't."

"Be my big, brave Rose," he said with a sing-song voice and she narrowed her eyes. "You can really go off some people, you know?"

"Say 'ah'." he instructed with a smile.

Rose said something, but it definitely wasn't 'ah.'

The Doctor blushed. "Rose Tyler, you should wash your mouth out with soap!"

"And you should go and f—"

He tipped the bottle over her open mouth and she instinctively swallowed, gagged and choked, coughing and sputtering.

"There," he said, petting her hair. "All better."

"I hate you," Rose moaned, her face an interesting shade of green.

"No, you don't," he said confidently then, less confidently, "you don't, right?"

Rose gave him one glare and sniffed pitifully. "I should. That was awful, tasted like a sewer threw up."

His face wrinkled at her delightful imagery. "Couldn't have been that bad."

"Then you try it!" she spat venomously.

"Fine! If it stops you moaning," he retorted and took a long swig.

Rose watched with interest at his reaction. His eyes bugged, his jaw dropped and his impossibly long tongue rolled out. His shoulders bowed and he shook his head.

"Bleurggh, ugh, bleughhhh. Uh, ye gods, that's horrific."

He stared at the label on the bottle. "External use only!"

"WHAT?!" Rose screeched.

He grinned. "Just kidding." His face wrinkled again. "Although I wouldn't be surprised, That was awful."

"Told you so," Rose said, somewhat triumphantly. "And since you were the one who insisted we drink that sewer water, I suggest you be the one to get us something to take the taste away. Something sweet."

She looked up at him and poked her tongue out, thinking about sweet chocolate or the Doctor's best sticky toffee pudding. Okay maybe nothing syrupy for a while.

"Something sweet." He looked up at the ceiling considering and then back down at Rose, tucked quite firmly between his legs.

He grinned wolfishly. "Like this?"

He ducked down and pressed his lips insistently on hers. Rose's eyes widened and she gasped at the sudden, unexpected action and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss; to chase away the nasty aftertaste of the medicine with the honey taste of Rose and the spicy cinnamon taste of Doctor.

It was too soon before he pulled away and Rose blinked at him.

"What was that for?"

"To take away the nasty taste. Now I have Rose taste in my mouth and it's all better," he explained and leaped off her, offering her a hand to pull her up, a maniac grin spread across his features.

"Rose taste?"

"Yup, better than chocolate, better than toffee, better than bananas and that's saying something."

Rose rolled her eyes, a blush staining her cheeks. "Mad you are, and don't think a kiss is going to make me forget that you practically forced that stuff down my throat. You've got a lot of making up to do, Mister."

"Oh, you wouldn't do anything to me, you love me too much, after all I'm your … your Doc— Doct— a—a-tisssshh-ooooo."

Rose froze and turned to him slowly. "Was that a sneeze?"

He swiped at his nose with his hand and gave her a wary look. "What?"

"That was a sneeze. You sneezed."

"I don't sneeze," he said in disgust and promptly sneezed.

A grin slowly crept over Rose's face. "Yes you do. You've got the flu."

"Time Lord's don't get sic—" he broke into a cough and looked horrified.

Rose's eyes gleamed as she picked up the half-full bottle from where it had been abandoned on the floor. She advanced on the very, very scared Doctor.

"You sneezed, you're sick."

"No, now Rose, you don't want to do this—" he backed away and Rose smiled. It wasn't a very nice smile.

"But Doctor," she said sweetly, "I only want to make you better. It's for your own good."

"Right, fine, okay, now see, there are two very, very good reasons why you want to stop there—" he sagged as she raised an eyebrow. "It's not going to work is it?"

Rose grinned. "Nope."

"Right." His eyes danced. "But you've got to catch me first."

He turned tail and ran into the TARDIS.


End file.
